A Rolling Glass Sphere

I stepped down from the windowsill and made my way toward the open floor. A clear glass marble lay near the base of the low bookshelf. I stood still beside it for a long moment, watching how the sunlight hit its curved side. Then, I pressed my snout against it. The marble rolled smoothly over the wooden planks, leaving a tiny reflection gliding ahead of it. It bumped against the baseboard with a soft clack and stopped. I walked over, planted my feet firmly, and waited to see if it would move again.